Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“Me too.”
Lark and I had met in law school at Columbia. She worked on the reelection campaign for Court’s mom, Mayor Leslie Kensington. She was the one to recommend me to be Court’s publicist after his arrest this summer. It had been great, living with her, but it was time to get my own place.
“Thank fuck the movers finally showed up,” I told her. “I thought I would be living in your apartment forever.”
“Hey! You love my apartment.”
I laughed. “I do. But I felt like a third wheel since Sam moved in.”
“Ugh! I never want you to feel like that.”
“It’s fine. I’m happy for you and Sam. That you two worked things out. It was time for me to move out anyway.” I shot her a sad smile. “I just wish that it wasn’t this apartment.”
“Yeah,” Lark said softly. “At least you and Josh never lived here together.”
“No, instead, he just bought me this apartment out of guilt. I’m living in my husband’s multimillion-dollar guilt gift. I don’t know if it’s better or worse.”
“Ugh. I hate this for you. Why did Josh have to be such a dick?”
“If I knew the answer to that, then I would probably be out of a job.”
Lark laughed. “True. I mean, we could sell the place.”
“I thought about that. But I don’t even know how that would work. It would be complicated.”
I ran a hand back through my blonde hair and stared around at the mostly bare apartment. I’d fallen in love with it the moment Josh suggested it. All the natural light and the perfect floor plan. The New York City life I’d always wanted to live. And he’d known that.
“We could get you another place. You don’t have to live here,” Lark said.
“I know, but I want to. It’s like I’m in Friends with this giant, unrealistic New York apartment.”
“This is a lot bigger than the apartment in Friends.”
“Yeah,” I said with a laugh, “but it’s a dream come true. Asshole knew that.”
“Damn boys. Can’t they be thoughtful when it’s just for good?”
“Right?” I cracked a smile. “Anyway, I like that I’m only a few floors up from you. I don’t want to move.”
“I don’t want you to move either. Selfishly.”
I stared around at the bright apartment, wondering if staying meant that I was giving in. Giving Josh just another outlet to me. If I would be stronger if I decided to get my own place, somewhere he’d never touched before. But everything was so fucked right now. The last thing I wanted was to move again. To have to go through the process of locating a place that I liked when everything else was in upheaval.
“Maybe we should go out tonight. Get your mind off of it,” Lark suggested.
“You can’t do that,” I said. “The campaign…”
Lark cringed. “I know. We’re so close to the primary, and I’m working crazy hours, but I’d do it for you.”
“Let’s just do it after,” I said even though going out with my girls sounded nicer than staying in or going to see Court.
I still didn’t know what to make of what had happened last time I saw him. I kept meaning to bring it up to Lark, but it got stuck on my tongue like peanut butter.
“No. You need it now. I can sacrifice sleep for one night,” she said around a yawn.
I shook my head at her. “You have a complex.”
“God, I know,” Lark said with a laugh. “I have to get in to the office. Just text Whitley and Katherine, and we’ll meet at Sparks. I’m sure Katherine can get us a booth.”
“I bet she can.”
“I’ll see you later!”
“Bye, Lark.”
She exited the penthouse, and I gazed around at the collection of boxes. I knew that I should text Court. I’d put him on lockdown. It was… unnecessary, but my head had been in the wrong place. I wasn’t going to apologize. I just needed to figure out where we should go from here. What we should do to help his reputation leading to the primary next week.
But if I were being honest, I didn’t want to see him. Or have that conversation. I’d rather spend the day unpacking all of these boxes than face Court Kensington.
* * *
I canceled on my girls three times that day.
I alternated between determination to get over what Josh had done and staring blankly out my window for an hour at a time. I hadn’t cried since I came back from London and sobbed in Lark’s arms. I didn’t want to cry either. But that didn’t mean that I was okay. I felt… submerged. As if I were underwater and any moment Josh would pull me up and laugh and say that it had all been a dream. That my perfect life wasn’t over and things were back to how they’d been.